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from The Anniversary

from The Anniversary by John Donne ' All Kings, and all their favourites, All glory of honours, beauties, wits, The sun itself, which makes times, as they pass, Is elder by a year now than it was When thou and I first one another saw: All other things to their destruction draw, Only our love hath no decay; This no tomorrow hath, nor yesterday, Running it never runs from us away, But truly keeps his first, last, everlasting day.'

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